


Coffee's Ready

by myndlessness



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead: World Beyond (TV 2020)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myndlessness/pseuds/myndlessness
Summary: After arriving at the CRM research facility in New York, Huck and Hope share living quarters. A morning conversation leads to new revelations.
Relationships: Hope Bennett/Huck
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Coffee's Ready

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps I'm not alone in getting a... vibe?... with these two. Took slight liberty with what their canon ages might be to make the story work for me. Oddly enough, the actresses only have a 7 year age gap, so there's that.
> 
> Minus the aforementioned age interpretation, this story references canon events and takes place following the Season 1 finale of TWD:WB. The characters in this work of fanfiction are not mine.

Huck is shaking the last of the coffee grounds into the filter when she registers the door down the hall squeaking open.

Unperturbed, she indulges a deep inhale, savoring the earthy aroma of the crushed beans. With a simple poke of a button, the appliance whirs and gurgles. Even though she’s resided at the New York facility for months now, Huck still marvels at CRM’s legitimate electricity.

The familiar shuffle of bare feet on a wooden floor grows closer, and a half-smile quirks across her lips.

"Mornin', kid," she calls, turning to find a sleepy Hope Bennett rounding the corner.

"Stop that," the younger girl mumbles, stretching her arms high over a dark mop of sleep-mussed hair, adorably sticking out at odd angles. Her oversized cropped sweatshirt rides up above her waistline, exposing just a sliver of pale skin.

Huck casts her eyes downward with a hint of guilt and leans back on the counter, crossing her arms to make herself smaller.

"Ahhh shit, my bad. I know I shouldn't act like all's good with us." Huck shoots an apologetic glance toward the girl, then purses her lips and shakes her head. "I betrayed your trust to get you here and now you're stuck living with me. I'm sorry, kid."

Hope’s arms drop loosely to her side, the wide neck of her sweatshirt shifting and slipping slightly down one shoulder. Thick eyebrows knit together as she steps more fully into the kitchen.

"What? No, not that," she corrects, still approaching the older girl.

“Huh?” Huck utters, confused.

“I’m not, like, mad at you or anything. You did what you thought was right, I get it. We’re good,” Hope clarifies as if her apparent forgiveness of Huck’s transgressions all those months ago was supposed to be the most obvious thing in the world.

The older girl just stares, stunned.

Hope stops a few feet away and stares right back, imploring her to understand.

Seconds tick by with their gazes locked. There’s a tension growing, but if it isn’t about her deceit then Huck doesn’t know what this is. It’s making the back of her neck prickle though, so she tries to say something, anything to break it up.

“Then, wh-what…” she trails off uselessly.

Hope releases a weary sigh.

“You need to stop calling me ‘kid’.”

Huck blinks.

“You…” she starts, but Hope keeps going.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Huck. I haven’t been for a while now. I’m friggin’ nineteen and you’re still out here calling me ‘kid’ like somebody’s grandpa,” she rants. “How old are you?”

“Uh, twenty-eight,” she sputters.

“See? Twenty-eight acting eighty-eight, ‘Aye alrighty there kiddo’,” Hope mocks in a gravelly, creaky voice.

Huck can’t help but crack a smile and eyes the other girl fondly.

Hope grins in return. “You’re not my grandpa.” She pauses in thought, then paces closer. “And you’re not my babysitter either,” she adds in a softer tone.

“Never said I was,” Huck shrugs plainly.

“But I know you think it sometimes,” Hope argues, “And I’m telling you to stop. I’m nineteen, you’re twenty-eight, we’re both adults here.”

The declaration stirs something low in Huck’s belly. She tries to push it aside with words.

“You know they asked me to live here to keep an eye on you.”

“And I know you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want to,” Hope retorts, taking a step into the older girl’s space.

Huck glances down and chews her lip, processing the statement. Moments of weighted silence pass, and the younger girl’s breathing wavers.

Nodding as if acknowledging something to herself, Huck shifts off the counter, standing upright and bringing her face mere inches from Hope’s. She swallows back the tightness in her throat, then levels her gaze to meet wide brown eyes.

“You’re right,” she concedes. “I do wanna be here with you.”

She feels cool fingers brush the inside of her wrist and sparks race down her spine. The digits cautiously slot themselves between her own, interlacing and guiding the two women even closer together.

“Good.”

The balmy sensation of Hope’s whisper being so close to her lips sends a shudder through Huck’s body. Her eyes slip closed, concealing the storm of emotion that swirls within them.

Huck can’t deny what she’s feeling any longer. She knows it’s desire, and it’s taking every bit of self-discipline she’s cultivated over the years to stop herself from acting on it.

But Hope’s making it really, unbearably hard to hold back.

A smooth forehead presses against hers and Huck’s eyes flutter open. Hope is so, so close, pink lips open and waiting, dark eyes pleading from under heavy eyelids.

But Huck can’t do this, can’t engage this. She goes to turn away, but Hope clasps their hands tighter and brings her back. 

“Stop that,” Hope demands for the second time that morning.

The younger woman reaches her free hand up to cup a scarred cheek, tracing a delicate thumb over the line streaked across the bone. The light touch skimming over her face feels like an electric shock through Huck’s body. She screws her eyes shut again, struggling to steady her breath.

“I want this,” Hope quietly insists.

It takes a few seconds, but Huck dares to look again. Hope’s gentle features are so open, so earnest, so honest that Huck knows she means it. This isn’t a ploy, or a trick, or a scheme, though she would rightfully deserve it.

She reaches up with her own free hand and threads her fingers through the tousled mane before her.

“Yeah?” Huck rasps, internally desperate for confirmation.

She gets it with a surge of lips latching onto her own.

Huck quickly reciprocates, curling her free arm behind the girl’s neck, molding their mouths firmly together.

After a beat, Hope pulls away but just barely. Their lips still grazing, chests heaving, Huck feels the fingers laced around her own give a squeeze, and a sweet whisper breathes in new life.

“Yeah,” comes the verbal confirmation, as if there were any remaining doubt.

With a chuckle, Huck captures Hope’s lips once again, kissing the young woman with fervor. Mouths opening, lips sliding, tongues pressing, they lose themselves in the taste and feel of one another.

Their joined hands release so Huck can hop onto the counter, knees parted so Hope fits perfectly between.

Experienced fingers roam freely under the loosely cut hem of the cropped sweatshirt, and Huck revels in the suppleness of the skin she finds. She ducks her head, gliding the tip of her tongue across a pristine expanse of collar bone, coaxing a needy mewl from Hope’s lips.

In turn, the younger woman’s greedy fingers fumble with the buttons of Huck’s flannel, and feeling the urgency Huck leans back to simply pull the garment overhead. Now clad in only a tank top, she watches already blown pupils grow darker with want.

Perched on the countertop, she wraps her legs around Hope’s lithe frame, urging their bodies back together. Huck’s about to dive in again when a noise to her right halts her approach.

*beep beep beep*

Amusement dances through her eyes as she smirks, pointing an elbow toward the machine beside her.

“Coffee’s ready, babe.”


End file.
